Chapter 35

PRIME

"Don't worry, it's going to be alright, I know it is," Jean-Luc whispered, kissing Jeanette on the top of her forehead. The baby, who Beverly had told him now was now somehow about four months older than when she had appeared just weeks ago as a newborn, sat calmly, balanced on his thigh. He kept his hands lightly on her back and front, as she stretched her head back to look up at him with arched soft orange eyebrows. He smoothed the wispy curl of red hair that stood out on top of her head.

Her mouth suddenly opened wide in a smile, which made him laugh, which caused her to laugh too. "What is so funny?" he asked, tickling her belly. She gurgled up at him. "My goodness, you are getting big," he said, bouncing her on his knee, which made her laugh again.

"Her physical and intellectual growth is accelerated," Beverly had said recently. "And I don't know why, or what it means."

"Perhaps the Traveler knows," he had responded.

"Well until he reappears in my living room, we're on our own, Jean-Luc."

He was hugging her to him again, just as the door opened and Beverly walked back in. Standing up, with the baby in one arm, he walked toward her with concern. "Did you find him?" he looked up with concern.

Beverly walked to a replicator in a highly agitated state. "I need something- something to calm my nerves."

"Might I suggest-"

"Earl Grey, hot," she declared.

This made him smile, but he stopped in his tracks and waited for her to turn around.

When she did, she exhaled loudly and took a shaky sip from her cup. She made a face, and put the cup down. "Right now I need something a lot stronger than tea...Yes," she shrugged, finally answering his question. "I found Wesley, but he wasn't the least bit interested in talking with me, or coming home."

"He'll come around."

"Will he? That bastard may be locked up in detention, but he has gotten into my son's head, Jean-Luc, and I just don't know how to compete with that right now."

Jean-Luc could think of no response, so instead he shifted slowly from foot to foot in a swaying motion, unsure at the moment if he was trying to soothe himself or the baby.

He watched as Beverly's expression softened to a degree.

She walked over to him, and put her palm on his back, leaning in to kiss Jeanette. "How is my big girl?" she asked lovingly as she nuzzled the baby's face. Jeanette again erupted into bubbly laughter. Beverly smiled. "She's so happy..."

"Someone has to be happy on this ship," she added, picking up her tea again and moving away from him again.

For some reason, this statement gave him an uncomfortable twinge, particularly since less than an hour before he had been doing everything within his power to make her happy. But now those wonderful moments of intimacy seemed so far away. "I'd like to make you happy," he blurted out awkwardly, as she walked away from him.

Beverly turned back to him, and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Oh...I didn't mean...believe me Jean-Luc, I know. And you did-it's just that everything is so uncertain right now."

He winced, shifting Jeanette to his other arm. Although his daughter was not heavy, she wiggled around just enough to remind him that his body was still recovering from the explosion on the bridge. "Do you regret that we..." he trailed off, as she smiled again and shook her head no. But he still noticed a hesitancy in her eyes, that made him think that as long as Jack's replica was on board, they would all be unsettled, and unable to move forward. He began again. "Because Beverly, if you're having second thoughts, we can slow things down-"

"A bit late for that, don't you think?" she asked with a soft smile.

He felt his face grow warm. "Perhaps..."

She continued to look at him with that smile, which had the effect of being highly distracting, and brought certain images to mind. "Ah...I will do whatever I can to regain Wesley's trust, Beverly. It's not his fault that he's been taken in by that man."

She clenched her jaw and nodded, growing serious once more. She looked down at her feet. "You never were, though, were you, Jean-Luc? You never truly believed that Jack had returned." She looked up at him again. "How could I have been such a fool?"

A short time later, Picard walked into Ten Forward, surprised momentarily that it was so bustling with people. As usual he kept to himself, and walked slowly up to the bar. He didn't sit down, but merely waited for his friend to turn around.

Guinan smiled. "What can I get you?"

He traced his hand along the bar absently. "I'm not going to be subtle about it this time...I need advice."

She watched him closely. "I've seen that look before, Captain. It's the one you always have when you are thinking about the Borg."

He took a breath, nodding. "Yes. And I don't know why I am thinking about the Borg at this very moment. Perhaps it is just the feeling that once again we are heading toward an unknown danger. As an explorer, the unknown used to excite me, Guinan. Until the Borg." He looked away. "I've changed, and not for the better."

She gestured for him to sit down. "A lot has happened recently Captain. To you...to this ship and it's crew."

Reluctantly he sat down, staring at his hands. "I don't know if I ever believed that man was really my friend. And yet poor Wesley..." he looked up at her. "Wesley still believes him to be his father. How do I-how do I help him?"

"Just be you. In time, he'll come around."

Picard looked skeptical. "Really?"

"I'm sure of it." Guinan leaned forward over the bar. "So... let's talk about the Borg, Captain."

MIRROR

Captain Picard walked back in to the detention block. Considering the circumstances, he was in a good mood. In his hand he held a bottle filled with something bright blue.

"We took the Klingon out of the Booth like you ordered, Captain. He's in there now," the guard pointed toward the interrogation room.

"Where is she?" he demanded of the guard.

"Commander Troi? I dunno, sir, she hasn't stopped by yet."

"Hasn't stopped by? You talk as though she wasn't just ordered to be here!"

"I dunno, sir..."

"Well, you idiot, you don't know much, do you?" Picard grumbled, shoving his way past the guard. "When she gets here, make her wait until I give you the go-ahead."

"Aye sir, but what if she-"

Uninterested in the plight of this idiotic guard, Picard walked into the interrogation room, and reached back and shut the door on the man's protestations. Once inside the room, he smiled in triumph at his prisoner, but his gloating was wasted on the hunched over Klingon, who sat slumped over a table, half asleep perhaps, from his ordeal in the Agony Booth.

Picard sat down on the other side, and put his boots noisily up on the table, stretching out his legs. He casually slid the bottle of blue liquid across the table towards his prisoner. "I'm sure you'll be wanting a drink after what you've been through."

No answer.

"You'll find I can be a very agreeable man," said Picard. "Generous even...for those willing to comply."

The prisoner remained silent.

"Go ahead," Picard prompted in a jovial tone. "Have a drink. One of the last authentic bottles of Romulan ale..."

"Perhaps I will break that bottle across your weak Terran skull."

"Ha, that's the spirit!" Picard pounded the table with his fist, then leaned on one elbow, tapping his forehead with his fingertip. "Although, I think you'll find appearances can be deceiving. My skull is quite fortified...not unlike your own."

Worf finally looked up at his captor slowly. A dark bruise extended from the Terran's throat and disappeared beneath his uniform shirt. He had been wounded during his surprise transport to the bridge of Worf's doomed bird of prey, but like Worf these concerns were secondary. Physical pain was but a reminder of living in moments like these. "I know who you are...you are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of my Klingon brothers and sisters."

Picard watched him with curious amusement. "Large family?"

Word growled and grabbed the bottle of ale, looking at it closely. "You have no honor, Picard. And one day you will meet a fitting death."

Picard laughed. "That may be...but not at your hands, Worf. You see, I know you too. And if you want to stay alive, you'll make a deal with me."

"I will tell you nothing!"

Picard shrugged. "Have it your way. On this ship there are other methods of gathering information, much more thorough than listening and talking...both of which are highly overrated activities, if you ask me."

Word made a face, and reached for the bottle again, unscrewing the cap. He took a big drink from it, before sliding it back across the table to Picard.

Picard smiled and took a swig from the bottle. "This is as close as either of us will ever get to meeting a real Romulan," he mentioned, studying the bottle carefully. "It's only a matter of time you know, before your people meet the same fate as the Romulans." Picard's eye caught on a blinking light on the far side of the table. Troi had arrived in the detention area. He smiled, just thinking of her tapping her elegant boot impatiently. No need to rush.

"The Terrans wiped out the Romulans years before either of us were born," said Worf.

Picard sighed. "Yes...but no reason why I can't take credit. It's my birthright after all."

"Just as it was your birthright to steal cloaking technology from the Romulans and Klingons."

"Nonsense, Worf. Terrans invented the cloaking device in 2170. Every Terran child is raised to learn this."

"Then every Terran child has been lied to."

Picard broke into a slow smile. "I like you, Worf. You and I are not so different."

Worf regarded Picard suspiciously. "How can this be so?"

"Well for one thing, we both believed the lies of the same powerful woman. Don't be ashamed, she's highly skilled, and therefore deserves our respect. But if you think Crusher has your interests, or the interests of the suffering Klingon people in mind, you are sadly mistaken. As such, you are a fool to consider an alliance with her. To what ends, do you allow yourself to trust such a deceitful person?"

"Who is this Crusher you speak of?" Worf asked in a convincingly innocent voice.

Picard's expression grew steely, and he clenched his jaw. "Going to play hard to get, are we?" He reached over and put his palm on the blinking light, signaling the guard. A moment later, the door opened and Deanna Troi sauntered into the room confidently.

Picard didn't turn around, still glaring at his prisoner. "Nice of you to join us, Commander."

"As usual, Captain, you needed my abilities. Since I enjoy torturing prisoners, it was really no trouble at all." She walked over to stand arms crossed, looking down at Worf. "It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of breaking a Klingon mind." She leaned down close to Worf's face, and he jerked his face away. "I couldn't quite crack that thick skull from the bridge, but now that we're here in the same room, it shouldn't be so difficult."

Picard rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I don't want him to be bludgeoned into a blubbering mess on the floor, Troi...I want to know what he knows."

Troi ignored him, and circled Worf. The Klingon jerked forward again, and tried to brace himself against the table. His eyes searched the room wildly, before rolling up toward the ceiling. Troi shrugged and walked away from Worf as the Klingon's large frame flopped forward unconsciously onto the table.

She stopped, and touched Picard's cheek lightly. "He's in an alliance with your ex-wife. She intends to overthrow the Emperor by aligning herself with the dregs of the Klingon colonies. Doesn't seem the brightest of plans...and he doesn't trust her. Perhaps he's not so stupid after all."

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's it! What did you expect? There is no possible way she would have told a Klingon even half of her actual plans."

Picard got up and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right."

"Of course, I am, Captain," Troi said sweetly.

For the moment, this story is still somehow escapist for me, and hopefully you, (but for how long?), despite its themes of a future parallel universe run by fascist xenophobes. After last week's election in the U.S., fascist, racist xenophobia is now apparently our daily reality. Best wishes, and stay safe. -PP